Pirates of the Caribbean: Tides of Change
by BibliophileBlue
Summary: Willow, daughter of Will and Elizabeth Turner, cannot resist the call of the sea. She finds herself on a daring adventure, and along the way she discovers the truth about pirates, the sea, and even herself - including a secret about her father.
1. Prologue

**A/n** : Hi all! This story takes place in the Pirates of the Caribbean universe, sometime during _The Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End_. Some events may not be entirely canon.

*Please follow and review if you like the story! :)*

 **Disclaimer** : All of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters are the sole property of The Walt Disney Company. I do not in any way claim ownership of these characters.

* * *

"Come on, Willow," Danny whispered urgently. He reached out to the girl in front of him, seizing her arm.

"Give me a minute," the young girl muttered in response, shaking him off. She peered out from behind the wooden crate they used for cover. "Do you think they're really pirates?" she asked with a grin.

"I hope not," Danny replied shakily, swallowing hard. "Pirates are dangerous."

"Sometimes," she breathed, watching the scene intently. The ship was docked only a few yards away. The harbour bustled with people of all kinds, but Willow couldn't keep her eyes off of the massive vessel onto which several disheveled men unloaded heavy crates. "I want to get closer," she whispered.

Danny's eyes widened. "Are you mad?" he whined, gripping her arm again. "What would your mother say?"

The girl whipped around. "She won't know, will she, Danny?" she growled, narrowing her eyes at him.

A distraught look fell upon his face. "I don't want any part of this," he said quietly. "I think I'm going to go back."

"Fine, coward," the girl scoffed, turning away. "Go home to your mum. I'm going to get a better view of the ship."

Danny frowned, but said nothing. He disappeared behind another stack of crates. His friend rolled her eyes. At nine years old, he was six months older than she was, but he was such a baby - and much shorter too. He had no sense of adventure at all. The girl faced the ship again, a gust of warm, salty air caressing her face. On the count of three, she dashed from her hiding spot, lifting her dress and clambering up the ship's ramp.

The ship was even more fascinating than it looked from afar. Willow ducked behind a barrel and watched the men at work. Some moved crates while others scrubbed the deck or fiddled with the rigging. They all seemed to be lost in their work - too lost to notice their tiny stowaway. With excitement welling up in her chest, she crawled away from the barrel and towards the middle of the deck. The wind was strong at that height, causing her hair and dress to fly about. She loved it. She laughed and stretched out her arms, feeling the wind lift her as if it were trying to carry her away.

The sea entranced her. The dark waves that lapped at the sides of the boat seemed to call her toward the railing. She answered the call, leaning over the edge and watching the sun reflect off the water.

Suddenly, a loud noise ripped Willow from her daydreams. She spun around just as the ramp slammed shut. "Anchors aweigh!" someone called.

No, that couldn't be right. They couldn't be leaving yet. At that moment, Willow felt the ship violently shudder. It began to move. The clanking of the anchor's chains had ceased, rendering the ship free to sail.

She wanted to call out to someone, but couldn't risk being caught. She couldn't face the wrath of the crewmen - or worse, her mother. She leaned back over the railing. It was much too high of a drop for her to jump onto the pier. She paced back and forth frantically. Just then, she heard someone shout her name. There on the pier, like a tiny guardian angel, stood Danny. He hadn't left after all.

"Danny!" Willow shouted as quietly as she could, waving her arms above her head. "Help!"

Danny's eyes widened. Willow could tell that he didn't know what to do either. "Jump!" he shouted after a moment. No, she couldn't do that. There was now about twenty yards of water between the dock and the ship. Glancing around one last time, Willow could not see any other way out. She pushed herself up on the railing and swung her legs over, gathering her dress. There was no backing out now. She sucked in as much air as her lungs would allow and let herself fall.

And fall.

And fall.

Just when she was about to open her eyes, she felt her whole body hit the surface. The water was icy cold and the current was strong, dragging her deeper. She kicked her feet and flailed her arms. Everything around her was black. Her lungs burned as she struggled to make it to the surface. Finally, she broke free from the sea's clutches. With a gasp, she raised her head above the waves.

Danny leaned over the edge of the pier. "That was so stupid!" he hissed, throwing down a tattered rope that had been discarded. "You could've gotten yourself killed! And what if you had gotten stuck on the ship? They would have taken you out to sea! You might have never returned!"

"They didn't even notice me," Willow replied, grabbing hold of the rope and allowing him to pull her up on the dock. He was stronger than she had accounted for. She lay down on the warm wood and closed her eyes. Her sopping clothes made her weak body feel like lead. "The ship was so big," she mumbled. Danny ignored her. He held out an arm and waited for her to take it, pulling her to her feet.

The next hour was torture. The pair stumbled home and awaited their punishment. A friend of Willow's mother answered the door. Her jaw dropped when she laid eyes on them. "Elizabeth!" she shrieked. Quick footsteps running towards the door followed her cry.

"What is it?" Willow's mother asked wildly. She fell silent when she saw the children before her. She pursed her lips and waved them inside. Her friends could sense her tension and retreated back to the sitting room. Danny's mother stayed, though she let the girl's mother take the lead. "Would either of you like to explain this to me?" Elizabeth asked calmly, gesturing to the puddle of water that had pooled at Willow's feet.

Willow glanced toward Danny, who was violently shaking his head. With a deep breath, she spoke up. "It was my fault," she began. "We went down to the harbour because I wanted to see the ships." Her mother raised an eyebrow, but allowed her to continue. Danny paled with fear of what she would say. "I thought I saw something shiny in the water, so I leaned over the edge of the dock. Danny told me not to, but I didn't listen. I fell in."

"Willow, how could you be so careless?" her mother scolded.

"And you, Daniel," his mother began, "I don't want you anywhere near the harbour. It is a dangerous place."

"I know, mother," he replied defeatedly.

"Come, then," she continued, taking him by the arm. "I've got to start supper. We best be going." As she led him out the door, Willow waved goodbye. He paid no attention to her.

Her mother spun her around quickly. "The same goes for you, young lady," she said sternly. "I don't want to catch you at the harbour again. If anything were to happen to you…" Her voice trailed off as she embraced her daughter.

"Yes, mother," she whispered quietly. She wanted to please her mother, but there was no way she could stay away from the harbour. She could still hear the call of the crashing waves, and she knew she had to answer.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Ten Years Later**_

* * *

"Oi, Daniel, hurry up! We'll miss it!" Willow yelled. She perched herself on the roof of the harbour Customs building, staring out at the sea. She could see every ship in the harbour perfectly. White, blue, yellow, red, and green sails flowed gracefully in the wind.

"I'm climbing as fast as I can," Daniel grumbled in response, pulling himself up onto the roof. "I don't know how you can scale buildings like this. I swear, one of these days we're going to get caught."

"We won't get caught, you ninny," the girl laughed, pointing toward an approaching ship. "Look. There she is - the Pride of Calypso. Isn't she beautiful?" She leaned against a turret and smiled. She had watched the Pride sail in and out of the harbour since she was young. The large merchant ship boasted billowing, blue sails and deep, earthy wood. "I'd give anything to be a part of that ship's crew," she sighed. She tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind one ear and leaned forward to get a better look.

Daniel looked down at her with a questioning glance. He was much taller now, being nearly twenty years old, and had grown rather handsome. "I've told you numerous times that if you wish to sail, I could take you on the Conquerer. She's a fine vessel." He stood up straight and smoothed out his blue uniform, flashing a smile.

Willow rolled her eyes. "Your ship isn't half the vessel the Pride is. She's much larger," she muttered, waving him off.

"My ship is large too," he threw back with a scowl.

"I don't think so," she teased. "I'm willing to bet it's rather small."

"It's quite large!" he yelled, his face turning crimson red.

Willow shoved him back from the ledge, ducking out of the sight from the street below. "Be quiet," she whispered. "You know full well the trouble you'd be in if they caught us."

"Yet you still manage to rope me into these childish adventures of yours," he complained.

"Oh, woe. Come on. It's getting dark. Let's head over to Kathryne's."

Despite his disapproval, Daniel didn't protest. He knew as well as anyone that arguing with Willow was futile.

Raucous laughter and jaunty music filled the air as they headed down the cobblestone path to Kathryn's Public House. It was only a short walk from the harbour, making it the prime destination for merchants and fishermen alike. Nothing but whores, thieves, and liars, Daniel's mother would say. He huffed as a man who had clearly soiled himself stumbled into the pair, laughing.

Willow paid no mind to the smell of the crowd or the thick, musty air. She only noticed the music, laughter, and dancing. As they pushed through the crowd, Willow made a point not to grumble about the uncomfortable shoes her mother had stuffed on her feet. The dress wasn't great either, but at least her mother hadn't made her wear a corset this time.

As the moonlight grew hazier, so did Willow's thoughts. She scarcely remembered anything beyond arriving at the pub besides laughing with Daniel and swallowing down her fair share of rum. It was warm, but extremely welcome. After some time, she hiked up her skirt and began to dance. Barefoot now, she skipped and twirled and tossed her head back with laughter. The room spun around her. She reached out for Daniel, beckoning him to join her, but lost sight of him as the crowd enveloped her.

Confused and dizzy, Willow stumbled out into the warm night air. She walked a few paces down the street, passing men hunched over as they spilled their guts on the cobblestone. "Daniel?" she called out. No response came. She walked further down the path and toward the sea, entranced by the sound of waves lapping against the shore. The cool stones felt soft against her blistered feet.

"Willow Turner," came a voice from behind her. She whipped around to see an older man. He seemed to appear out of nowhere. Laugh lines wrinkled his tanned skin, his face masked by a thick gray beard.

"I beg your pardon?" Willow asked, instinctively taking a step away from the man.

"Willow Turner," he repeated with a smile, "daughter of the courageous Elizabeth Turner and the brave Captain William Turner."

"Yes," Willow responded cautiously, glancing around. They were alone.

Slowly, he raised a hand to brush a strand of hair from the girl's cheek. She reeled away with a scowl. "Aye, you look just like your father," the man chuckled. "I didn't think it could possibly be true. Now I see for myself."

"My father?" she questioned. She hadn't seen her father since she was nine years old. His line of work only permitted him to visit every ten years. His trade business was a busy one. He was due again the next year, and her mother already talked about it incessantly. "I've always been told that I look more like my mother," she continued.

"Come, lass," the man said softly. He took a few steps toward the edge of the shore, where the grey rocks met the water. "Look at your reflection," he instructed. She did. Her hair was messy, her cheeks rosy, and her clothes disheveled, but other than that, she was the spitting image of her mother.

"I see my mum," she responded.

"Do you?" he inquired. "Your hair is dark, like the night. Your mother's is light and sun-bleached. You have your father's lips and eyes, for sure. And that strong build." He took her arm and lifted it. "Yes, your bone structure is just like your father's. Just look at your cheekbones."

She glanced back down at the water and prodded her cheeks a little. Sure, they were rather prominent. "I don't remember what my father looks like," she confessed, turning toward the man.

He chuckled. "I wouldn't expect you to."

Her cheeks flushed. "What do you mean?" she asked defensively. Who did this man think he was to lecture her about her family and her looks?

"I mean no harm," the man continued. "I only think it's time you know the truth. There are things your mother hasn't told you about your place out there." He motioned toward the moon's reflection on the tide. "Things are getting very rough out on the sea."

"The truth?" she responded, stepping closer to him. Her eyes bore into his. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know of Captain Jack Sparrow?" he asked, changing the subject.

She groaned. "Yes, I've heard of him. One of the most famous pirates there is - or was. I've heard that he isn't a very good one. He's probably dead."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Aye, that's where you're wrong, lass. Ol' Jack is one of the best pirates there is. A real crazy one - not quite all there, but a great pirate and a great man."

"Well what of him?" she snapped. She grew more impatient with the old man each moment.

"Your mother knew him," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "Quite well, actually."

"That's absurd," Willow laughed at the crazy old man. "My mother hardly seems the type. What makes you think she knows Jack Sparrow?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he corrected her. "And I know because I was a member of his crew for many years. I knew your mother. Feisty lass, she was."

Willow's jaw hung open for a moment. "My mother hasn't set foot on a ship since her childhood," she insisted.

"Your mother," he accused, "has not been telling you the whole truth."

"Then what is the whole truth?"

"Pirating is in your blood, Miss Turner," he grinned.

Before Willow could say another word, a hand clasped around her arm. "Willow," a familiar voice hissed. "What are you doing?"

Willow turned to the boy. "Daniel!" she sighed with relief.

"Where have you been?" he asked, eyeing the stranger before them. "It's time to go home."

"Wait," Willow pleaded, struggling against his grip. She turned to the old man, but he had vanished just as quickly as he had appeared.


	3. Chapter 2

"You were out late again," Elizabeth commented. She pulled her daughter's hair tight as she twisted it into a braid.

Willow winced as her mother pulled at her hair. "I was with Daniel," she muttered.

Her mother relaxed. "Ah," she said calmly. "I'm glad to hear that. I was worried."

"Worried?" Willow asked between short breaths as she pitifully tried to loosen the tight blue corset wrapped around her waist.

Her mother was quiet for a moment, letting the girl's hair fall against her back. She placed her hands on Willow's shoulders, catching her eye in the mirror they stood before. "There's been talk around the town. The sea is getting rough. The tides are changing," she sighed. "What do you mean?" Willow asked, turning to face her mother.

"Things are getting dangerous out there. For everyone. More ships are going missing, more sailors lost at sea. Someone - or something - is waging a war." She paused for a moment. "I always fear that you'll be caught up in it."

"Do you think they're pirates?" The words flew out of Willow's mouth before she could stop them.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. "Yes, I do," she said after a moment.

The words of the strange man she had met the previous night rang in Willow's mind: Pirating is in your blood, Miss Turner.

"Have you ever met one?" Willow asked quietly. The look on her mother's face told her she already knew the answer.

"A long time ago," Elizabeth replied. Her gaze seemed to trail off far away. Before Willow could ask any more questions, her mother reached out to cup her cheek. "Please, just stay away from the harbour. You don't know what's out there. It's a different world on the ocean. A dangerous one."

Willow nodded, but once again couldn't shake the feeling that her place was on the sea.

* * *

"I just don't understand it," Willow huffed, pacing back and forth along the rocky shoreline. "He was right here! What did he mean, 'pirating is in your blood'?"

"I don't know," Daniel responded, watching the girl as she paced. He fiddled with the buttons on his suit and glanced around. "Maybe he's just a crazy old man? Did you ever think of that?"

"He knew my name!" Willow retorted, kicking at a stone.

Daniel shrugged. "Your mother's probably right though," he added. "You should stay away from the harbour. It's dangerous."

Willow whipped around to face the boy. "You're on her side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side," he replied. "I just know things are happening out there, and-"

"What do you mean 'things are happening'? Why has everyone been saying that? What is happening?"

Daniel sighed and took a deep breath. He brushed his hand over the back of his neck as he thought. "All I know is that there's a fleet. They're taking out all of our ships. They get closer every day."

"What do they want?" Willow asked.

"We don't know. They won't speak with us. All they do is kill our men, destroy our ships, and steal our goods. That's why…" He trailed off for a moment, averting his gaze. "That's why I'm leaving. They need me out there."

Willow was quiet for a moment. She knew it would happen, but never realized it would come so soon. "When?" she asked quietly.

"One week," he responded solemnly. Sensing her concern, he playfully hit her shoulder. "Hey, come on, you didn't think I joined the navy just to sit here and gab with you all day, did you?"

Willow smiled faintly. "No. This is what you need to do." She tucked a loose strand of hair back into her braid. "I just wish there was more I could do. I feel… helpless."

Daniel lightly touched the girl's arm. "You can help by keeping yourself safe," he noted. "You're my best friend, Willow. I want to know you'll still be here when I return."

Willow nodded. "Just get back safe, okay? That suit wouldn't look as nice on a corpse."

Daniel laughed.

They sat in silence for a while. There was nothing left to be said.


	4. Chapter 3

Heat. Burning, intense heat. Willow threw off her bedsheets, the orange glow from outside illuminating her room. It seemed to dance and flicker across the wall from the open window. She quickly realized this was more than just a bad dream and ran to the window. Everything was in flames. She could feel sweat form on her brow as she peered out at the harbour. Buildings, carriages, and boats collapsed under the rolling orange wave.

Without hesitating, Willow threw open her door and flew down the stairs. "Willow!" her mother called, grabbing the girl and pulling her close as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"What's happening?" Willow shouted.

"They've come," Elizabeth muttered. "They're attacking."

Willow had no idea who _they_ were or why they had set the town on fire, but she knew she had to do something. She tore her arm from her mother's grasp. "I need to go," she said quickly. Before her mother could grab her again, she turned on her heels and headed for the door.

"Willow!" her mother called after her, trying in vain to catch up. "Do not leave this house! Willow!"

Her mother's cries were soon drowned out by the howling of flames ascending the hillside. She turned back to look at the large estate, Elizabeth standing in the doorway with a pleading expression. She couldn't go back. She couldn't stand by. It wasn't in her blood. She turned and fled down the path toward the harbour.

The heat swelled as she grew closer to its source. Millions of thoughts swarmed her mind, all of them urging her legs to run faster. She was quickly ripped from her thoughts as a hand closed around her wrist. She turned to break free and her gaze met Daniel's.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"I need to help," Willow pleaded. "I need to do something."

"You don't need to do anything. It's too dangerous. Go home." He regarded her with a stern look that she had only seen a few times before when he spoke to those who dared to disobey Royal orders.

"Let me go," she snapped back, wrenching herself free.

Her counterpart let out a sigh. "Willow Turner," he began, "I command you to return home at once."

Willow's eyes widened. A harsh laugh erupted from her lips. "And I command you to stay out of my way," she threw back.

Daniel's stern expression did not waver. "Willow," he said softly, "if you don't do as I say, you will be punished." He knew she was stubborn, but hoped she wouldn't go against his command.

Willow thought for a moment, watching the boy's face. "Then punish me," she said finally. She could tell by the look on his face that she had said the wrong thing. Disappointment flickered in his eyes.

He said nothing else, but rather stepped aside to let her pass. He gestured toward the harbour, sadness evident on his face.

Willow nodded. Without a second glance, she headed off toward the harbour again.

Chaos ensued near the water. Townspeople ran this way and that in a desperate attempt to quench the flames. A horse galloped by, nearly knocking Willow over, whinnying with fear as it went. Willow glanced out at the water, looking beyond the reflection of the flames. On the horizon was the small speck of a ship. She felt a rage rise in her chest. She would find whoever did this and make them pay.

She didn't think twice before heading toward one of the burning ships docked in the harbour. Attached to it was a small wooden rowboat that had yet to be charred. She grabbed ahold of one of its ropes and pulled. It didn't budge. With a grunt, she pulled again. The flames inched closer. She cursed under her breath and released the rope, looking over her raw palms. She would need something stronger.

She grabbed a rock and aggressively hit it against the rope. It tore slightly, a portion of the boat falling lower. Perfect. She continued to work, the flames only an arms length away. With the rest of her strength, she gave the last rope a tug and stumbled as the boat fell into the water with a splash. She quickly jumped in and grabbed a paddle.

Before long, she was past the burning harbour and into the black, swirling sea. The boat rocked up and down, each wave sending a spray of seawater into her face. Its coolness was welcome on her warm skin. She turned to look back at the nearly-ruined town. Near the top of the hill sat her family estate. It stood proudly above the flames. She knew her mother would be alright. With a deep breath, she set the paddle back in the water and pushed herself further toward the blackness.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry this is so late! I've been swamped with school and general life stuff. I'm going to try to update again sooner! Enjoy! :)

* * *

Willow turned over in the small rowboat, the morning sun bright on her face. She licked her parched lips and slowly opened one eye. She half expected to see the sun beaming in through her bedroom window, the events of the previous night nothing more than a distant dream. But behind the brilliant light was nothing but blue. As she sat up, she began to remember what had transpired the night before. An ache spread across her body.

"Ugh," she moaned, her throat dry. She reached down, expecting cool water between her fingers, and was met with the gritty warmth of sand. A gasp escaped her lips. She clambered over the side of the boat and fell to her knees. She hadn't drifted out to sea. She was alive. She'd be okay.

"Stupid," she barked at herself. What was she thinking? Where did she think she could go? She took a moment to compose herself and surveyed her surroundings. White sand, lush greenery, billowing cloud of smoke…

Smoke?

Willow pushed herself to her feet and headed toward the sun-soaked jungle before her. She wasn't alone. She'd find whoever created the smoke and get some answers, and soon this would all be behind her.

Willow trudged through the underbrush for what felt like hours, the black cloud of smoke growing closer with each step. She didn't know what to expect when she got there, but she had a feeling the answers she'd always sought after were beyond that cloud. She was quickly torn from her thoughts as a thorny plant bore into her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its place. Willow hissed and kicked the plant aside, frustration growing inside her. Would she ever reach the other side of the island? Skin red and throat dry, she pushed forward.

By the time she reached the fire, the sun had shifted across the sky. Before she could take another wobbly step, deep voices rang from beyond the trees. She fell to her knees and crept forward to hear what they were saying. This was it - her moment of truth.

Along the shore were men of all shapes, and sizes. Some were laughing. Others were arguing. Some lay in the warm sand, exhausted or just too drunk to move. A bonfire containing dozens of wooden chests burned brilliantly, orange sparks stark against the dark cloud of smoke. Anchored nearby was one of the most beautiful ships Willow had ever seen. Huge sails blew softly above dark, shiny wood. Its majesty was almost like that of a painting.

Cautiously, Willow crawled a few more feet and peered out from behind the shade of a banana tree to get a better look.

"We've got two more, Cap'n," came a voice from out of sight.

Captain?

Willow leaned forward in an attempt to catch a glimpse of who could captain such a vessel. In the distance, she could just make out a pair of brown leather boots coming around a bush before two large hands gripped her sides.

"Gotcha!" came a gruff voice.

Willow shrieked, and before she could fight back, everything went dark.

* * *

"Such a pretty little lass!"

"You lost, love?"

"Oi, I'll take some!"

As Willow's vision returned, she began to make out a crew of rugged men surrounding her. They whistled and hollered, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists as she resisted against the ropes that bound her to the mast behind her. "Who are you?" she snarled at the portly man in front of her.  
"Feisty," he laughed, touching his greasy fingers to her cheek. She jerked her head away. "I thought your first words would be 'thank you' for not throwing you overboard!"

" _Thank you_?" Willow spat.

"You're welcome."

Willow's head spun. "I want to speak to the captain," she barked. The ropes dug into her wrists, but she could barely feel the pain. Adrenaline coursed through her veins.

The men around her began to laugh.

"I'm going to tell you one more time," Willow hissed. "Let me speak to the captain."

"The captain's busy right now," another crew member chuckled. He leaned close to her face, his breath turning her stomach. "Can I take a message?" If her feet were free, she would have kicked him in the shins.

"I swear, you filthy-"

They only laughed louder.

Willow took a deep breath. She racked her brain to remember what it was Daniel had told her when she had dragged him to the harbour for the millionth time. Then it dawned on her - no matter how ruthless or brave, pirates are completely powerless to the Pirate Code. "Take me to the captain," she demanded once more. "You must."

"We _must_ , eh?" one of them cackled. "And what makes you think-"

"Parley."

"What?"

"I demand parley."

Their expressions grew cold. "Females and their _parley_ ," one spat. "Remember back with that Turner girl? Oi, she _ruined_ us with parley!"

Willow's face burned as she turned toward the man. " _What_ Turner girl?" she growled.

"Eh… El, Eliza? Elizabeth! Elizabeth Turner," a short, stocky man stuttered.

"That's my _mother_!" she cried. "I'm her daughter! Willow Turner!" They stared at her in disbelief. "So it _is_ true…" she muttered under her breath. Suddenly she felt the ropes slip from her arms, and she pulled away from the mast.

"Get the captain," the first crew member said to another sternly. The others backed up, leaving Willow sore and confused.

It wasn't long before the crew scattered and Willow heard the heavy clanking of boots against the wooden deck.

"'E'llo there," came a syrupy voice from behind her. She whipped around, eyeing up the strange man before her. His clothing was just as shoddy as that of the other crew members, but it looked a bit more "regal." Probably stolen.

"You're the captain," Willow stated inquisitively. He looked like one of the old drunks she'd step over outside the alehouse.

"Aye, Captain Jack Sparrow. And you're the second lass to give us trouble over _parley_. So what can we do for you?"

Willow's eyes grew wide. Captain Jack Sparrow. _The_ Captain Jack Sparrow. The one of legends, the one who was said to have drowned long ago. Now the one standing before her with a leathery face and teeth darker than whiskey itself.

"Jack Sparrow?" A smile spread across Willow's face. "I thought you were an old wives tale to keep children from wandering too close to the water."

Jack raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He took a hearty swig of whatever dark liquid swished around in his crystalline flask.

"And my mother! My _mother_! You knew her! She was here! On the… the…" She stopped for a moment and looked down at the mildewy deck below her feet. "This must be the Black Pearl!" Her mouth fell agape.

"Perceptive," the captain responded, leaning against the bannister. "But if you're here for money, I have none. I have rum." He held the flask toward her. "Your mother, tell her I'm sorry for leaving her in Jamaica, but I couldn't be tied down-"

"What are you talking about? Jamaica?" Willow stepped toward the tall man, immediately reeling from his boozy stench. "My mother is Elizabeth Turner."

"So… you're not Carissa?"

"No."

"And you don't want money?"

"No, I want to get off this ship so I can find my father! If the rumors are true, then he'll know why my town is in danger!"

Jack glanced around and gave a nervous chuckle. "I… your mother… did she say…?"

" _You're_ not my father," Willow snapped. "His name is Will Turner. He's a merchant ship captain for the East India Trading Company."

"Funny," Jack mumbled, "I knew a bloke called Will Turner once. He was far from a government tea-runner."

"My father is twice the man you'll ever be," Willow hissed. "At least he makes an honest living."

"There's that Elizabeth firepower I know. Come with me." Jack gestured for her to follow as he stumbled toward the captain's chambers, humming to himself.

Willow turned back to face the deck as she descended the stairs into the dark room, hoping this wouldn't be the last time she'd see the sunlight.


End file.
